First, let me say I'm not a professional writer I just thought I'd post this to share how my mind works. If you don't like my writing style or anything else, go ahead and comment, it's always nice to get CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.
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My name is Anson Franklin Anderson, I have a Ph. D in electrical engineering and a master's degree in mechanical engineering. I'm 6'8" tall and weigh about 220 pounds. I usually swim for about four hours a day, two in the morning and two in the evening, or until I reach ten miles. As such, I have what's referred to as a swimmer's body, wide shoulders, thin waist with very long arms, large shoulder muscles and triceps. I guess I should also mention that I have a little over a 7 1/2 inch cock that is the same diameter as an original Red Bull can, and gets hard at practically the word breast or from a light breeze.
I married my high school sweetheart right after high school, and just before Christmas of that year, I found out through a friend that she'd been sleeping with another guy since midway through our senior year of high school. When I confronted her, she never even tried to deny it, even going so far to say she hoped we could get divorced ASAP so she could marry the other guy.
I asked her why she bothered to marry me in the first place, and she said that she couldn't hurt my feelings when I proposed and from then on, everything just snowballed and before she knew it, we were married, and she felt trapped. I remember asking her, "What, you thought it would hurt less if you married me and I found out you were cheating and just wanted out of it?"
Of course, she didn't have an answer to that.
Fortunately, we really hadn't accumulated much of anything so the divorce was over about as quickly as one could be.
Before the ink was even dry on my divorce papers, I met Sarah in one of my classes and we fell head over heels in love. Within four months we were in Las Vegas getting married in a cheesy chapel, not even by an Elvis impersonator but a Wayne Newton impersonator.
I don't know what either of us was thinking about getting married. We both had radically different majors, hers was history, so except for one prerequisite class, the one we met in, we had nothing else in common except being hurt by a previous partner.
Her high school boyfriend also followed her to college but halfway through the first semester, she got home to find a one sentence note saying he couldn't do it anymore, and he was gone. He dropped out of school, just disappeared. She never heard hide nor hair from him ever again.
One thing that we talked about was fidelity in a marriage. Obviously with the history of my first wife fresh in my mind, one thing I was adamant about was that sexual cheating was game over for me. Sarah agreed with me and said that her parents had a lousy marriage because her dad had cheated on her mom and her mom didn't do anything about it and after letting it eat her away, one day when Sarah got home, she found her mom dead from a drug over dose. Her suicide note specifically said that's what happened and Sarah was adamant that for her also, infidelity was a reason for divorce.
Sarah and I were in love with each other when we got married and as time went on our love deepened. However, we hardly saw each other even during summer break. We both had to work full time jobs and study at the same time, and during summer break I interned at a tech company.
During school, I was lucky to get four hours of sleep per night and often that was shortened by making love to Sarah. Once we finished our undergrad degrees, we were both accepted into graduate school, albeit at different colleges. Fortunately, they were close enough, so we got a new apartment closer to Sarah's college, but my commute was only about an hour away while hers was 15 minutes.
Usually, we'd either put something in the crock pot and when we'd get home dinner would be ready or have leftovers from a previous meal. Although we both usually got home late, most of the time Sarah would get home before me and when I'd get home we'd have a few bites of dinner before crawling into bed.
One night after we'd been married for a little over four years and were in our second year of grad school, I got home and when I entered the kitchen it was dark. I was usually exhausted when I got home so I barely took notice that things were different. I stripped off my clothes and threw them in the laundry and headed upstairs to put on something more comfortable. I figured Sarah must be somewhere studying or asleep because there were no lights on in the whole house.
I put on a pair of pajama bottoms I'd worn the night before and pulled a hoodie over my head and when I sat down on the bed to put some slippers on, I heard a yelp and felt a lump. I turned around and through the dim light I saw Sarah, and as I turned on the light, I not only saw that she was naked but one of our neighbors was also naked in bed with her.
After much yelling, wailing, and gnashing of teeth, she admitted that they'd had sex and then fallen asleep.
I couldn't believe this was happening to me again. This time at least Sarah said she was sorry, made all kinds of excuses, and adamantly stated that she wanted to work things out. In the meantime, our smarmy neighbor was trying to figure out how to extricate himself from our bedroom. I don't get mad often but when I do, I've been told I can be very intimidating.
Finally, I told Marvin that if he didn't get out of my sight and our house within 10 seconds, I'd kill him. In retrospect, it was almost comical. He threw the covers back and ran out of the bedroom and out of the house. If it had been a cartoon, he would have had streak marks behind him.
He lived three houses down and during his naked dash out of our house and into his, he passed another neighbor's house while the mother and two of her little daughters were outside to witness his flight.
Needless to say, Marvin's wife was none too pleased when she opened their front door to find her naked husband pounding on it, and even more displeased when the police showed up on their door after having been called by the mother with the two girls.
The net result of the whole debacle was two divorces, mine and the neighbors, and me becoming very commitment phobic.
I've always been a camera buff and just after completing my MS in engineering I patented several inventions relating to image stabilization in cameras and as such, they've provided me with an income that I couldn't possibly spend in two lifetimes. You see, I grew up with very poor parents and often went without food at mealtime and that gave me a real sense of the value of money and while many people call me cheap, it's just that I don't feel the need to waste money on extravagances.
By the time I was 26 I decided I didn't need the stress and competitiveness of a 9-5 job, got my teaching credential and started teaching at a local private college. I teach four classes per term, usually starting between 8 & 9 am so by noon each day I'm "free," although in engineering it's not unusual for students to need some individual help and often professional guidance along with the usual expectation of research.
I usually get into my office by 7 am and don't leave until 5 or 6 pm, giving students plenty of opportunity to be able to reach out to me if need be. As such, in a very short order I got to know the other professors whose offices were close to mine, since I'm usually there before they get in and still there when they leave.
One thing I like about teaching in a smaller college is different disciplines are more co-mingled than in larger universities. For instance, if I was working at one of my alma maters, Northwestern University, my office would be in the McCormick School of Engineering along with all the other professors of engineering.
Where I am now, there is an adjunct professor who only teaches statics (no, that's not a typo) near me but also a history professor and so on. I had become quite friendly with an older professor of Linguistics who had the office right next to mine, but last term of the previous year he'd retired so I was looking forward to seeing who would be assigned his old office.
The first day back of my third year there I was puttering around in my office when I heard a rather pleasant voice say, "Good morning." I turned around to see an obviously young women, I later found out she was 23, who seemed to strive to look 50. She was about 5'4" had heavy transitional glasses, her indeterminately dark blonde hair in a bun, dressed in rather frumpy old-fashioned clothes and very sensible shoes. I stepped forward to shake her hand and introduced myself as Anson Franklin. (Later on, it will become apparent why I don't use my last name, Anderson, at the college.) She said her name was Rylen Lee and mentioned that she was going to be in the now vacant office next to me, and we shared the usual chit chat between two newly acquainted people. She said she would be teaching English and linguistics, which led to a segue for me to say how much I enjoyed the company of her office predecessor, and at one point she mentioned that she was newly married.
We talked for maybe five minutes before she excused herself, saying she had an office that needed a lot of attention. As the term went on, we would talk occasionally but our interactions were very limited. I got the distinct impression that she was quite conservative, quite religious, and quite shy around men in general. That first five-minute conversation was the longest we had for probably her first year or more.
When the next year rolled around, I noticed that Ms. Lee was becoming a bit more friendly and a few times at school functions, I noticed her with a man that I assumed to be her husband. Right away I didn't care for him. She was a completely different person when he was around, she seldom said more than a couple of words, I could tell from both of their body languages that he was very much the controlling alpha male, and he often mocked or belittled her.
It was during her third year at the college, my fifth, that I started to notice that occasionally she'd be limping or walking very stiff, like she was in pain. We didn't have any kind of relationship other than our offices being next to each other but a few times I asked if she was okay, and she'd always come up with some excuse or another. It didn't seem like she interacted with any other professors, male or female, just the occasional student that would come by her office for counseling or help with classwork.
I made a point of trying to befriend her and sometime in her fourth year there, we'd occasionally sit in one or the other's office and have brief chats. It just seemed to me like she needed a friend. One day I was leaning against her doorjamb talking to her when I felt a hand on my arm, pulling me out of the doorway and a very aggressive angry voice saying, "Who the fuck are you, talking to my wife."
"John," Ms. Lee said in a squeaking voice, "there's no need for that kind of language. John, this is Mr. Franklin, his office is right next door," she said, trying to introduce us.
"I don't care who the fuck you are, keep away from my wife."
Turning to his wife, still with the same venom in his voice, he said, "I knew this was a bad idea having you working here, acting like a slut in front of the likes of him."
I was about to put him in his place when I looked at Ms. Lee and she quickly shook her head from side to side and mouthed, "no, no, no."
I stood up to my full height and I could momentarily see fear in his eyes, but it was soon replaced with his bully's bravado. "Just because you're a tall fuck, don't even think of giving me shit or I'll beat the shit out of you."
"Whatever pal," I said as I headed for my office.
As I entered my office, I heard her door slam thunderously and I could hear him yelling at her with no response whatsoever back, and at one point I heard a loud "smack" which was obviously someone slapping someone else very hard, probably across the face.
